Alright, guys. I know I promised some of you Edward, but...he got out of hand. He wanted his OWN chapter, so...if I get enough reviews, Edward's chapter will be up tomorrow morning before I leave for school. I promise.

Also, I'm going to post the links to pictures of the clothing and such on my profile later. The tunic Alice wore in chapter one is already posted.

Chapter Three

Two Days Ago:

Alice and I were penned to meet Rosalie Hale in some office building in LA. We were to be there at two o'clock sharp. This was becoming a problem. First of all, our plane couldn't land when we got to LAX because some plane decided to turn onto our runway. This was at ten a.m. By this time I had spent five hours on the flight catching up on the sleep I did not get because of the extra preparations that Alice 'forgot' to make…or neglected to think about at all…things like us needing a toothbrush a piece.

At eleven, after circling the airport for an hour, a whole, useless hour in which Alice actually made me wake up for, we finally get to land and I already felt late.

I was horribly groggy, making Alice be the one who had the duty of dragging me through the airport. Emmett called us as soon as we got off the flight. He was already here, having to take a plane from another airline that left two hours after ours. He had already checked us into the hotel room, the idiot that he was. He was being forced to pay for an extra night. Alice told him he was going to be the one paying for it. I could hear him groaning to her over the phone that he 'didn't get paid enough for this'.

I found out that LAX is extremely hard to navigate when you've never been there before and you just woke up. I think I get lost a couple of times. Going through the security checkpoint, my zebra belt sets off the alarm. It might have been the fact that I have on a black ribbed tank top with a giant cross rhinestoned on it that gets me stopped, though. For some reason, I am also sporting a black fedora with a rhinestoned star on the side, my hair pulled into a low ponytail to one side.

Did Alice HAVE to let me dress myself in head to toe glitter?

For some reason, the security guards also do not want to believe that it's just my belt buckle. One of them even suggests a pat down search to which I groan before calling him a pervert. Alice apologizes for me, but I swear he was just suggesting it to see if he got to touch my chest. I, however, have a year of law school and know that it is illegal for a male officer to search a female. It's sexual harassment charges waiting to happen.

Somehow, Alice convinces them to just let us go after I take off my belt and demonstrate that it DOES set off it metal detectors. They don't seem convinced, but it does get me out of LAX.

When we finally find all twelve of our bags, ten of which must be Alice's, we sprint to the doors that we think should be closest to the highway, though we got it wrong the first time and had to ask for directions again. I flag down a taxi quickly and find a porter from our hotel to have our luggage transferred, even giving him my room number. I send Emmett a quick text to tell him to be on the look-out.

I don't trust anyone.

Alice is the one who issues directions to the driver. I have no idea where I am going. I just know I'm supposed to be there. I have no sense of direction, either, so no matter what I wouldn't know where I was. That and Alice is pro at all of these arrangement things. She's the one who negotiated my contract. I'm getting half a million dollars for the movie! That's a new Alice record!

When we get to the office building, I wish I had changed clothes. Alice is dressed in her cute, prim black pinstriped dress suit and I look…Let's be honest here: I probably look like I could have come out of the nearest strip club. If I had on Alice's four inch stiletto heels, I would look like I'd come out of a club. As it is, I'm stuck in flip-flops and Alice actually fits in.

"When we meet Ms. Hale, just act natural," Alice begins to lecture me as she bounces her way down the hall toward the reception desk of the first floor. "Smile, introduce yourself. I don't want to have to lead you. If I lead you, she'll think you're too passive. Talk, but let me do anything that you don't know how to answer." Alice gives me this lecture every time I get a job. I tune her out and just clomp my way through the entryway with my head down, hoping to blend into the black marble beneath me.

Honestly, the only reason that Ms. Hale wanted me to meet her is because, apparently, I'm the only actress from the film that she has never met face-to-face. She has already met with everyone else through work or various connections. Me she had seen on one of her vacations to New York and just happened to hear that I said my dream role was Catherine while she was talking to one of the fan girls in the audience…or, at least, that's more or less how Alice relayed the story back to me. On the phone, Rosalie Hale had said she saw my stunning work once in New York and I had been at the front of her mind ever since. I wondered at the flattery.

The receptionist had to page Rosalie who, upon hearing who it was, immediately insisted on escorting us up herself. She seemed horribly enthusiastic, and that scared me. Directors who were that happy to see me usually had good news like 'you're going to be raking in money for this show at slave's pay!' I knew this wasn't the case here, but I had developed a mild case of paranoia from being in this business.

As soon as Rosalie steps off the elevator, I am blinded by bright red. She is wearing a suit like Alice. I know I'm underdressed and I itch to melt into a puddle.

The first thing I remember about Rosalie Hale, other than that, was that I felt like I should have quit this business a long time ago. If this woman was a director, I was afraid to meet the real actresses. Rosalie was in all aspects a model. Blonde, tall, and with curves that belonged on a goddess, not a human. Her bright blue eyes were shocking to the point that looking in them was enough to render any human, male or female, unable to form coherent sentences. The females couldn't speak because she was so gorgeous they were taking hits on their ego by being in the same room.

The next thing I remember was her proclaiming to everyone within a half mile radius, "There's my Cathy!" and kissing both of my cheeks. Having lived in New York for the past four years, I have seen many weird personages. This one, though makes me smile sweetly before shooting a nervous glance at Alice. As we're walking to the room where I'm probably going to be put through the ringer, Alice tells me that Rosalie, who insists I call her Rosalie or Rose, was raised in Europe.

This explains the kissing on cheeks.

The room that Rosalie leads us to is actually her office. She opens the door, smiling sweetly and immediately goes to her desk and sits behind it, professional in all aspects. Alice and I remain standing as I shut the door quietly behind myself. Rosalie frowns when she sees that neither of us are sitting down.

"Well, go on! Sit down! The chairs don't bite, I promise!" She smiled, her pearl white teeth giving my ego another good battering. "I have been told they are quite comfortable, actually," she says, standing as she gets up and goes to a coffee pot in a corner of her office. "Coffee?" She offers as Alice and I sit down.

Alice politely declines, as do I. Rosalie shrugs. "So," she says, swallowing. "Isabella! Tell me about yourself!" She smiles at me.

"Bella," I correct, automatically. "I don't know what to say," I answer, honestly, almost shyly.

Rosalie waves her hand as she sits down. "Your experiences, your life…how about where you grew up!" I raise my eyebrows at the question. "I know almost everyone in the cast personally," she says, her tone explanatory. "You, on the other hand, are a mystery to me! Come on, now. I just want to know more about you."

Alice is actually shocked by Rosalie more than I am. "I don't know if Bella is used to this kind of attention, Ms…Rosalie." Alice looks at me, her eyes huge.

I just shrug. "There's really nothing to tell about my life," I say, coyly. "I grew up in Forks, Washington…"

"Me, too! Well, what I consider my American life was spent there for about four years." Rosalie begins, cutting me off. I think I could probably keep her talking until she dismissed us. "You're only twenty-two, right? I was only a year ahead of you in school, too…God, how did I miss you? Were you in any of the school productions?"

I bite my lip. "No." I say, not too sure how to explain that if she wants an explanation. The teacher who directed and I never really agreed.

"Oh," Rosalie says, as though she's having an epiphany. "That would be why. I was assuming you were one of the drama people! But, no? You should have been! You are very talented!"

"You were at Forks High?" Alice raised a brow incredulously.

"One year." Rosalie explained, shrugging.

The next hour was spent with us swapping stories about Washington. It was actually kind of nice. I'm under no pressure from anyone. This is a good sign. I think I will grow to like Rosalie, though, I wouldn't know because at three o'clock her receptionist came in to tell her that she needs to be on her way to some movie premier in three hours, meaning she should go home to change. Rosalie all but ignores her, finishes the story she was telling Alice and I and then tells the receptionist that she's coming and to not throw a tantrum.

"It was marvelous to meet with you two! Remember, tomorrow, lay back, relax, enjoy LA for me, alright? Oh, and, Al, if you're into shopping there is GREAT shopping here. It's like the Soho district in New York, but on steroids!" As she says this and writes down some business names for Alice, the only thing I can think is Did she just call her 'Al'?

As we're leaving, me dragging Alice out of the room because she had to comment on Rosalie's shoes, Rosalie turns to me. "I am so glad that you could come to meet with me! I think you're really going to enjoy this project. And your co-star, Edward Masen, I think you'll like him."

It takes every fiber of my being to get out of there with merely a smile and a nod. If I opened my mouth, I knew I would scream.

Today:

Enjoy Los Angeles.

This is an understatement. What Alice made me do was far worse than 'enjoy' Los Angeles.

I had been shopping for eighteen hours. Alice dragged me out of bed at five a.m. we didn't get back until eleven, and that was only because she insisted we stop for a 'treat' at McDonalds. I was so happy to find out that there were McDonalds here. I think I almost cried when I sat down. My feet were sore, my arms were laden with bags of clothes which may or may not be mine, and I had to squint to see straight because my contacts were falling out of my eyes.

I slept most of the day away. When I woke up the first time, Alice was showing Emmett our purchases and he was 'ooh'-ing and 'ah'-ing when he saw fit…or when he knew Alice expected it. I rolled over and saw that it was eight o'clock.

I woke up at noon to the phone. Alice's shopping trips really did wear me out. I got up and started to wander around the suite, opening the door, looking at Alice tangled in the corded hotel phone. Emmett was leaning forward to hear as Alice smiled. I walked out into the parlor room, opening the door wide behind me.

"The sleepy-head finally wakes up!" Emmett says, a little too loudly, I suppose because Alice smacks him.

"Uh huh. Yes. We'll be there. Uh huh! Ok. Buh-bye, Rose."

I raise my eyebrows at Alice. Why on earth was she on the phone with Rosalie Hale? I was only assuming, but I didn't know any other 'Rose' of any shape or form.

"That was Rosalie Hale," Alice sings as she puts the phone down.

"No, really?" I say, mocking shock. "I thought it might be someone important." I say, making a bitter smile.

Alice rolls her eyes. "She wants us to come to the pre-shooting party! They're throwing this huge bash in this bar…" I tune Alice out and go for the mini-bar. "Hey!" Alice swats the shot glass out of my hand. It drops to the counter surface with a clang. "What are you doing?"

"Getting a drink?" I say it as though she is insane for taking away my glass, hoping to convince myself more than her.

"No, you are not, missy! You have to stay sober today! All day! You have to be able to give Edward Cullen a piece of your mind!" Alice holds up her fists in a fighting stance and mocks punching the air.

"I hate to agree with the small one, but Al is right," Emmett says, smirking at Alice.

I sigh, shaking my head. "Then someone better order me some food because I'm…" Alice is pointing to a plate on the table in the parlor. "Oh." I say, sighing. I take up the fork and sit down. I take off the silver cover to reveal a plate of cold bacon, eggs, and a bagel with cream cheese spread across it mercilessly. I shake my head, but eat it anyhow.

Everything tastes slimy to me. I take that as an omen that my day will go horribly.

After I eat, Alice pulls me out of my chair. "Bella, Bella, Bella!" She is jumping up and down dragging me to the shower. "We need to get you cleaned up, my darling!" I bite my lip. This could take hours.

I was right. Alice forces me to go back in the shower once after I have been in for twenty minutes. I soak in the half-a-bathtub for an hour before getting out the next time. After that, my hair is combed out, pulled from my scalp, torn from the skin…oh, you get the point!

Alice decides that she HAS to take the curling iron to my too plain waves. Why? She burns my scalp at least twice. I sit there in the parlor bitterly as I get laughed at by Emmett who can come and go as he pleases while I am a prisoner to Alice Brandon!

This takes until three-thirty. Emmett, through making all of the preparations for us to go to the 'party' –where I shall be further tortured –has already informed me that we aren't leaving until six o'clock. So, when Alice pulls out a black piece of fabric and spray adhesive, I don't know why I'm surprised. I honestly want to cry about it when I see how little it will cover with my chest.

"Do I HAVE to wear this?" I ask, holding the dress against me. It is a mini-dress. There is barely any 'dress' to it.

"Yes!" Alice says, glaring.

"Bella, you'll look…sexy," Emmett offers. I know he feels as adamantly about me not getting myself into the dress as I feel about it.

"See? Even he approves!" This is an insult to Emmett's fashion sense. Posing as my body guard, he is wearing a black button-up shirt which features white pinstripes, the top two buttons undone so that you can see part of his chest, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows and deep wash blue jeans that Alice bought him. He looks like the stereotypical hero of some romance novel, AKA what my life will never be.

Alice shoves me into the bathroom and comes in behind me, undressing me, redressing me and spraying glue all over my back so that low cut back will not reveal certain pieces of my anatomy. She then leaves me alone while she brings back make-up and plays 'Barbie Bella' until five-forty-five. I know. I put on my diamond Dior watch to time her.

When she finally leaves me in solitude, I look in the mirror. There is an alien staring back at me.

I swiftly lock the bathroom door to keep Alice out and reflect on the woman in the mirror. She's beautiful. Alice can handle a mascara wand like magic, let me tell you, but…she wasn't me. She wasn't the woman who was a horrible feminist, who stood up for what she believed in, who was outspoken.

Worst of all, she wasn't plain, she wasn't ugly…and she looked talented.

Damn that Edward Masen. He planted that seed of doubt again. He had to plant that seed of doubt again! I don't even believe in myself anymore! I lean against the bathroom counter, trying to fight tears.

I hear pounding on the door. Emmett and Alice are screaming my name outside the door. Alice is shrieking for Emmett to break the door down.

"I will not damage property each time Bells decides to act like a four year old! She'll come out!" Emmett's comment stings, but I try to ignore it.

"Why did she lock the door?" Alice is shrieking.

Emmett takes over, knocking softly. "Bella, honey. Why did you lock Alice out? Is it because she's so evil?"

"No," I say on the other side of the door, quietly.

"Then, what is it, Bells?" Emmett actually sounds concerned.

"I'm…too pretty."

Alice sounds enraged. "Why would you say that!? You've always been pretty!"

"Maybe what that jackass said affected her more than we thought, if you get my drift," Emmett says, trying to be soft, on the other side of the white door.

Alice sighs through her teeth, angry. "Yes, Emmett, I get your drift. I have lived with your drift for years. I am SADDLED by your drift!"

Emmett pauses, clearly out of witty comebacks. "It's only been two." The two of them bicker on how they'll get me out until I come out on my own accord, at six twenty-five. I have determined something in that twenty-five minutes alone: I would go to that party, and I would make Edward Masen eat his own words!

Remember, reviews equal quotes, reviews also equal happy author. I appologize this is so late! It's not you guys. I was DRAGGED from home all weekend to go to a historical re-enactment! I am also BROKE thanks to the pretty clothing at said historical re-enactment! Ha ha.